Within a land of his own creation, a figment of his imagination, and a physical manifestation of his mind and will, the Nephalem was frozen. Not literally as being encased in ice, but rather frozen to the point where there seemed to be no bodily motions coming from him. Each of his feet were planted firmly onto the ground, right in front of left, and with his body angled quite a bit to have the right portion of it facing forward. The pair of red eyes were sealed shut, nor did they twitch to keep themselves that way. The land in which the Nephalem stood upon was filled with lush green fields, a clear blue sky, and a gentle breeze that provided the only movement for him, with the natural flow of his hair and clothing within it. The sun above was just coming to the midday point, just overhead the Nephalem, causing his shadow to be diminished significantly in size. Another gentle gust of wind had passed right by, causing grass, clothing, hair, and leaves to sway in its direction. The still being stood right in front of an enormous grove of trees, one that was not actually there in reality, and neither was this world. He, and probably many more people knew, that there was not such a place like this on Earthland that held such peace. No matter how hard they would strive to achieve it, it would be to no avail.

Nonetheless, he was still capable of entering this world on his own. Though his purpose here was not to grovel or worship the tranquility, but rather use it as a method of concentration for what was about to come. Aside from his still motions, within his left hand, Deniel held on to the scabbard of his companion and best friend: Nidhogg. His left hand was inches away from the hilt, with the rest of the scabbard dangling towards the ground. And in spite of his right arm soon going to reach to it, Deniel did not even make a motion to warm up his fingers. This moment of silence was to attain the utmost concentration. And once it had been achieved, the Nephalem finally made a move.

In one instant he was standing perfectly still, his shoulders not even rising from the very breath he inhaled every so often. And then next, his right hand was already firmly clasped around the hilt of Nidhogg. Drawing it with an extreme force of power, while also performing a motion that was the first cut of many, Deniel had begun his assault on the trees which he created for this very exercise. Following the first cut from the black blade, the Nephalem unleashed, from a distance, several more, with his body swinging itself with the momentum of his arm occasionally to transition into the next slice. Seven cuts passed with the black katana, and then the figure of it completely altered within the next swing, almost tripling in its width and gaining length to the demonic broadsword Armageddon. The scrawny arms of the Nephalem still managed to lift the blade, in spite of how impossible it appeared, and even swing it with precision and accuracy. Following the broad sweeps to the broadsword, it then narrowed itself and turned itself upon the hilt, transforming into a scythe that Deniel circled around his body repeatedly with an onslaught of destructive cuts. Whilst spinning the scythe around his body, the Nephalem brought it up to in front of him, raising it to the sky, and then splitting it into two. Once again its form changed, this time back to katanas, but there were two of them instead of one this time around, and they were white. By far the motions he made with his twin katanas were the most swift and elegant, as if he had been literally dancing with his blades. Each of them performing a different yet similar motion to the other at the exact same instant, and with each of them going around his body in white blurs that could almost not be seen.

At last the Nephalem gave his exercise which he had all done in place its finishing touch. Rounding up both katanas together in one circular swing, going from down below all the way high above his head, he merged the two blades together following the swift attack, and was left with his initial weapon. The very last attack was a perfect horizontal swing, from left to right, and a glisten of the sunlight off of the black blade. Lowering the weapon after his final attack, he turned to the opposite direction of the grove of trees, spun the blade on his fingers, and very slowly sheathed the black blade into its scabbard once more. And as the blade clicked into a secure place, each and every one of the trees behind the Nephalem were cut across their figures in more ways than one, tumbling over helplessly, crashing into one another, and reduced from mighty and tall wooden figures, to a pile of chopped up wood and logs. Finishing the exercise, the Nephalem at long last opened his eyes, and found himself back into the realm of reality.

~~~~.~~~~

Outside of the little world that he created with the assistance of his sword, he was now back on Earthland, located somewhere he...couldn't remember. "Impressive work as always, Deniel." Scratching behind his head, and taking an awkward step forward as he once again adjusted to everything, he only shrugged. "Yeah...thanks..." He remembered now. A small room he had rented...in Talonia. "Something on your mind?" A bed...a closet...drawers. That's all that was in the room, and that's all that he needed. He wouldn't be staying lone, anyway. "Well...I've been thinking...would I be able to teach these skills to someone else?" He sat down on the bed, and from his shoulders the tiny serpent dragon Nidhogg hopped down beside him. "Why on Earthland would you want to do that?" Deniel fell on to his backside, staring straight up blankly at the ceiling, feeling a little negative and down about himself in spite of his skill never waning. "I'm gonna' die one day, Nidhogg...and there will be nothing left. Family, legacy, children...nothing. Maybe I could at least teach someone to fight like me? Something to pass on...?

"I suppose some of your skills could be passed on...since you can't have kids, and there are no other Nephalem like you. Who did you have in mind?" Frowning for a brief moment, Deniel sat up once again on his bed, and pushed himself right off of it. As he did so, Nidhogg once again leaped up right on to his shoulder, standing upright on its hind legs. "I know who..." And the person he had in mind was certainly not someone he could just call out for, not like he used to anyway. They needed to be tracked down in some way or another, found. She was in hiding after all. Fortunately for Deniel, tracking her down would be no issue, especially considering they were more than likely in the same place currently: Talonia. This is where he had met her, and as he recalled...the Soul Bar is where he did so. And if memory served him correctly...the bartender. "He called her Ven." He unintentionally said it out loud, a little awkward since he was in the middle of the streets now, on his way.

Luckily no one payed him no heed or attention. The key to that was that 'Ven' was a nickname, and he wouldn't call he that unless he knew her very well like Deniel did. Must mean she visits frequently...or lives there. Hmmm.... It was a solid lead, much more solid the initial time Deniel attempted to track down the blonde. This time he actually had an accurate depiction of her in his head, and hopefully this time she would be much more pleasant in introductions.

Entering the Soul Bar, in a much less mysterious and sketchy way that he did last time--mainly because he lacked the black cloak he wore with his initial encounter--his eyes scanned around. She wasn't anywhere to be seen in sight...but he did sense her Magic Power. It was close, and there was no doubt that she was here. Immediately his eyes looked straight up at the ceiling. Second floor...? Bartender was his next lead. It was almost like he was in a state of Déjà vu. In Soul Bar, looking for Venir, and the first person he would be looking for was Venir. Except this time it wasn't to catch up, no...he had a real object this time around. One that she might be surprised to learn about, but hopefully more or less welcoming towards it. "Yo...is Ven around? Upstairs, maybe?"

The steady rise and fall of her chest suggested that she was asleep, or close enough. Despite the clamor of the bar beneath her room, the young woman seemed peaceful. It had been sometime since she had returned to the room in which she called home. The room itself could hardly compare to her past room, but it was a start. Considering it was only used as a place to crash after long missions, the most decorated part of the room was the bed. A variety of pillows and plushies alike slept alongside the goddess. With such a high body temperature, only the lightest of sheets were upon her bed, and more often than not they got tangled amongst her legs. If the room wasn't warm enough, just from her presence alone, the soft sunlight that drifted in through open curtains kept her more than cozy. Her last mission involved a frozen wasteland so the excess in heat was welcomed.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Someone had rapped upon her door. Weary after her mission, it was only natural that Venir did not wake up from knocking alone. Only a moment later and the door was open, revealing the bartender of the Soul Bar, a bartender that also happened to own his place of work. He crossed the threshold of her room, a notable difference in temperature from the hallway to her place of rest. The sight that greeted him was a common one, at least to him. Her legs were tangled about in her sheets, the creamy expanse of her bare legs giving way to black pajama shorts. One arm was off the bed, fingertips barely brushing against the wooden floorboards below, while her other hand lazily stroked her bare expanse of her midriff, seemingly gravitating towards where her lacrima lay hidden beneath her taut stomach. Unlike prior occasions the bartender knew better than to touch the dormant slayer. Unconsciousness often times meant that there was little to no control over her body temperature, and burned fingers was hardly a good way to start the day. "Ven." The male huffed, before repeating her name once more with a bit more volume to it.

"Mmmmm?"

She hummed, dark lashes revealing amethyst orbs that were still glazed over with sleep. "Ya got yourself a visitor!" The bartender's remark was met with silence, apparently the slayer had taken to sleep again. With another sharp call of her name Venir finally responded, with a huff of air and a sharp glare, "Rune Knight or bounty hunter?" She grumbled, voice hoarse with sleep. The hand that had been tracing her lacrima stopped, and instead pulled down on her dark tank top, covering the silky skin with the dark fabric. "Neither. He's been here before-" His gaze that had been drawn towards the exposed skin, was now filled with white pillow, a pillow that had been thrown none too gently at him by the female slayer. "Tell him I'm asleep or busy or both." Venir was hardly a morning person, that much was true, and in her sleep fogged brain she had yet to make the connection as to who might be waiting for her downstairs. "Oh and pass me back my pillow please?" Venir had requested and the bartender had obliged. With pillow in hand, the blonde had rolled over, letting sleep take over her once more. The bartender paused for a moment in the doorway before returning back down to the bar.

Upstairs it was, then. At least now he knew where he could perhaps find her if she wasn't really out in any particular place. He admired her ability to find a place that she was comfortable--more or less anyway--to stay in and sleep. In contrast, Deniel hadn't really moved on from the outdoors and wandering about. From time to time he had, indeed, found a place to stay for a night or so, but none beyond that. Now he was by himself, aside from the other guests at the bar, and couldn't really think of anything to pass the minuscule amount of time that had passed. He leaned against the bar table with his back to it, tapping his index finger repeatedly in a steady pace and pattern. Tap, tap...tap,tap...tap, tap...tap, tap... Shortly thereafter, the bartender came back down, and the footsteps on the staircase managed to catch the attention of Deniel. Looking up to it, a frown developed across his features, noticing Venir wasn't accompanying him. Either she wasn't here, or.... "She's busy sleeping."

His expression went from a frown to one that seemed to be quite annoyed; his eyelids closed themselves almost halfway, and his lips shifted to one side of his mouth in irritation. Crossed his arms and rolling his eyes, he deduced it was best to take matters into his own hands. "Thanks for the help...I'll take it from here. And don't worry, I'm not gonna' hurt her." He wasn't about to let sleep get in the way of him and training, or rather her and training. Sleep was important, but sleeping during a time of training was--to him--irresponsible, in spite of the fact that he was going to practically force her to do it and she had not volunteered or asked him. Going up the stairs with heavy footsteps, most of the noise made from his combat boots, he closed his eyes to conduct a search for Venir; the chances of him finding her room on his own were unlikely, but just sensing her Magic Power would be sufficient enough. Given there was little to no distance between them, and hers was quite easy to spot now that he had recognized it from the previous encounter they had not many weeks ago, locating her in the midst of everything that he sensed whenever he activated the senses of Magic was quite easy. It was not on an immense scale due to her resting state, but it was sufficient enough for the senses of Deniel to pick up on it and pinpoint the location.

The bartender knocked previously to alert her that he was coming in, but Deniel had done no such thing. He opened the door with no warning or signal, and closed it behind him quietly. Just across from him on the other side was the little slayer, a lot bigger in more than one area than last time, but still little compared to his height. Now he attempted to derive a way to awaken her in a way that wouldn't cause the whole building to come crashing down on their heads in an inferno. That immediately ruled out the scare factor he had been thinking of...

Leaning against the door he decided one decent way to wake her up was through something a lot less painful and terrifying. With a wave of his hand he summoned himself a container full of delicious ripe strawberries, a rich red color and looking perfect for consumption. Opening the container, the first strawberry went straight for the Nephalem's mouth, and the juice flowed right in like a river the moment he took a bite down on to it. Chewing the ripe red fruit, the second one went elsewhere. Picking it up out of the container and tossing it just above his palm a few times, he then threw it straight at the sleeping blonde's forehead so it would land with a soft "Thud" against her. Almost immediately after the first came to her, a second had done so with the words: "Wakey-Wakey Veni," following.

Blissfully unaware of the intruder in her room, Venir easily could have slept for another few hours. Her slumber itself wasn't a heavy one, and with enough prompting she could easily be pulled out of just as the bartender had done moments ago. However, when the first strawberry hit her, square on the forehead, she gave no signs of waking save for the crinkling of her nose. When the second strawberry hit her, this time accompanied by words the blonde stirred some, her sleep filled brain trying to process the words. Hadn't she just sent the bartender away? Her nose crinkled again, this time catching scent of...Strawberries? If the scent of strawberries in an otherwise ash smelling room wasn't odd enough, another scent finally caught her sensitive nose. This one making her brow furrow, and further rousing her. It was a familiar scent, but one that did not belong in her room. A scent like home, not like the current room she resided in, but rather a home that she had not known for sometime now. Underneath that scent of home, was the faint scent of strawberries, and something her her still drowsy head was trying to describe. "Pleasant? Unpleasant?" The scent contradicted itself and confused her as she inhaled once more trying to discern it before finally it clicked.

Nephalem

Holy and unholy, angelic and demonic, it was enough to throw the slayers senses for a loop. What an odd scent to be in her room, it wasn't as if there were many Nephalem floating around, and she doubted one would go out of its way to meet a god slayer. A being that was created for fighting holy beings whether it be gods or angel with very unholy magic? Venir was no expert but surely Nephalem didn't want to challenge someone like her? Though how effective a god slayer with unholy flames would be against a being that was simultaneously holy and unholy was questionable. "There's not many Nephalem around..." Or rather there was only one Nephalem around. At long last the sleeping beauty's amethyst gems revealed themselves, and she sat up with a shriek; the two strawberries thrown at her having fallen to the floor in the process.

"W-What!?"

Venir had pulled her white sheets about her like a large overbearing cloak of white. It was already embarrassing enough to be caught still sleeping in her pajamas so late in the day, let alone being caught by him of all people. The sight before her was just as she had suspected, and at long last she found some more words after a great deal of stuttering, "W-What are you doing here? Don't tell me-" She cut herself off before asking if he was going to kill her, they had already gone over that once, and Venir wasn't as antsy to go through that experience again. A blessing in itself considering the young slayer's lacrima always seemed ready to fight, but today happened to be an off day. "Don't tell me something happened?" She quickly tried to cover her blunder up, sinking further into the comforts of her blankets, as if they might protect her from whatever Deniel had in store for her.

It wasn't as if she disliked him or his presence, she was just caught by surprise. Rarely did one's ex-guild master stop by for an unannounced visit. The last time he had, hardly ended well so it was only natural that she be wary of this one.

Those were his initial thoughts, anyway. He didn't dare say anything out loud, as it appeared Venir was quite startled by him just showing up. Reaching inside of his container once more, he popped another ripe strawberry into his mouth, watching her with some kind of amusement to his eyes. Either she was surprised someone intruded in on her sleeping time, or she was just surprised to see him. Regardless of what it was, he observed in stationary amusement. Another strawberry went into his mouth and was chewed down in a matter of moments before going right down his throat. She cut herself off mid-sentence, perhaps unsure of what to ask him. Letting her finish up any kind of thoughts and distress she was going through, he got the third and final strawberry of his container straight into his mouth, and ate it down very swiftly. Swallowing its last remnants and licking his lips of any delicious juice left behind, the container in his hands vanished into thin air, just as the strawberries he created appeared. "Nice to see you too, Little Venir." He would at least think that after having resolved their conflicts and relationships, she would be a little joyful at seeing a friendly face. Though perhaps something was recently eating at her, or she was just on edge to anyone entering uninvited.

"To answer your question, though: no, nothing's happened. Not yet, anyway." He took one step closer towards her, his eyes scanning around the room to see what exactly she had in here. No sign of a weapon...at all. Quite unusual. She didn't have one back when she lashed out at them for their initial encounter, so it might not have been with her, but here he could see clearly she didn't have any kinds. It was almost perfect. "I'm gonna' teach you a few things, Venir..." He began, extending his arm out and opening up his palm wide. Black mist came from his shoulders right to the palm of his hand, stretching itself out into a straight line, and then materializing into his signature black katana. Drawing the blade slowly, he did not perform any kind of cut or slash, but rather inspected the blade very carefully. "To use one of these..." He then grabbed on to the hilt with his other hand, and then a blue glow enveloped the sword. He broke it straight into two, and once the blue glow had faded, there were two white katanas, rather than one black. One in each hand. "Or two. Or..." He brought the two blades together with a red glow enveloping them this time. It stretched itself out, grew thicker, and gained the curvature of a cleaver. The glow was gone, and then his monstrous broadsword was held by both of his hands, which seemed fitting considering the blade looked almost just as big as him with his scrawny shape. "A big one."

He pointed the tip of the enormous blade right at the scabbard--which seemed way too small for it--but pushed it in anyways. The excess material that did not fit into the scabbard broke off as a purple energy, circling around and then traveling into the scabbard along with the middle portion of the blade that could actually fit it. Once the blade had clicked in, the hilt could be seen as the black katana's once more. "Get ready and get dressed. Meet me at the Talonia Arena in half an hour... I know you females need your precious time to get ready." Turning away from her, he went right for the door, with one hand on it, and looked back at her one last time to get his final thought in: "Don't keep me waiting now~" The last remark was said quite playfully, and it was even followed up by a brief wink. He walked outside of her room, closing the door very slowly and carefully behind him. His eyes were up for the ceiling, taking in what he just said and what he was about to get himself into. He took in a deep breath through his nostrils, and out his mouth, walking down the hallway. There wasn't much preparation in order, though it would be nice for him to reach the arena early.

Surprisingly, this was perhaps the first time the Nephalem had ever visited Talonia's arena. Luckily for him, even without much planning towards it, the arena wasn't being used for any kind of staged or scheduled combat currently. He and Venir could have the entire thing to themselves. He sat down meditating in the very center of the arena, around him was the pit between the audience's stands and the arena itself, with its four-way entrance. There had only been one other time that he trained someone in the arts that he knew, and that was to a group of children. He didn't really get into as much detail as he hoped to with Venir, which would create a world of a difference to them. He started to contemplate just how those kids were doing...what happened to them after the Hive's attack? One of them, in his mind, stood out above all else: "Credo..." The ambitious, yet talented one. Quick to learn, though also quite reckless to move forward. He had potential, and hopefully took Deniel's advice to heart. Ever since that day, though... Deniel had never seen him. He wondered how the child was. "Hmm....it's like I'm everyone's Uncle." Uncle. Yeah. That suited him well. Much more than 'father'.

She swore her lacrima twitched at the mention of little, and she had to bite back a venomous response of, "I'll show you little." She wasn't ready to die just yet. Nor did she want to piss off Deniel when she had yet to discern just why he was there in the first place. His next words were rather ominous, enough so that Venir shrunk further back into her blankets, and did not stop until her back met the wall. "T-Teach me?" She echoed back, going pale. What was it that he possibly wanted to teach her? Well, there was a number of things in which Venir ought to be a taught a lesson but none of them required Deniel. Nor would she want some of them to require him. At the appearance of his sword, Venir let out a squeak of almost fright doing her best to resist the urge to spontaneously combust into flames. Deniel wouldn't attack her. Not again. Right? Right?

"Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?"

She blurted out as he finished his sentence, face as shocked as her voice was. He was going to teach her to use a sword? The idea was almost laughable, a burst of giggles even threatened to spill from her lips. If not for Deniel continuing on and breaking his single sword into two seperate blades, and then formig a large blade Venir would have laughed. It wasn't exactly wise to laugh at the armed man in her room while she was near defenseless with nothing but her pajamas, and her still half slumbering lacrima. "Wait, wait, wait you can't be serious." The young woman tried to intervene, but evidently Deniel seemed very serious about training her on how to use a sword. She couldn't even begin to fathom as to how or why he wanted to. By the time he had turned to the door, Venir was scrambling out of her bed trying to stop him from carrying this ridiculous idea through. However, in her rush to get out of the bed she got caught up in her blankets and hit the floor with a resounding thud.

Pale cheeks lit up like a flame, out of agitation or just embarrassment it was hard to say. Before a sharp response could leave her tongue, Deniel was already gone leaving the slayer to herself. Not showing up to the Talonia Arena crossed her mind but it was dismissed just as quickly as it had come. If it was any other mage she easily could have stood him up but unfortunately, he could probably track her down or get to her faster than she could run from him. With a groan she got up from the floor, unsure if she was more determined to keep him waiting, or prove that girls don't take that long to get ready. Well, some girls did, but Venir on the other hand got ready faster than most girls. It wasn't as if she had to apply make up, or the like. Her natural features were nice enough. Half of the time a quick shower or change of clothes, and maybe a quick brush through her hair made Venir look better than most.

~*~

Hardly five minutes had passed and Venir was already at the bar beneath her room. Instead of keeping Deniel waiting as she had initially wanted to, Venir cleaned up rather quickly. She was almost in her usual attire, she had forgone the usual sash and jacket, leaving her in just her dark shorts, and bright tube top. "The usual!" Venir shouted to the bartender as she tugged her boots on with one hand. The bartender slid a flaming glass of liquor down the counter in almost record time, and with perfect precision it stopped just in front of the slayer who was using her teeth to pull on her fingerless gloves. "Thanks!" She chirped once her gloves were on, and the drink was already warming her belly. Her wave of goodbye was returned by a number of the regular patrons. They were always eager to send of the flame slayer for their own safety, and for other less admirable reasons as she dashed out the door.

~*~

"Oiiiiii!"

She gave a usual greeting, more awake, and alert than she had been in her room. The arena was more or less empty save for a straggler here and there in the stands, waiting for some sort of fight to go down. The Talonia Arena was where all manner of mages came to settle out disputes or contests. There wasn't any big contest taking place, but if one waited around long enough a couple of brawling mages would usually duke it out in the arena. However, any stray spectators would be disappointed by the two that stood in the middle of the arena, or at least Venir hoped. "I'm here." She gestured towards herself, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "But no sword. Don't own one. Sucks." She shrugged doing her best to look disappointed, "Guess we'll just have to cancel today's sword lesson."

Meditating wasn't something that Deniel had always done, nor was it some kind of hobby for him. He did know its value when it came to preparing for some kind of use with his swords, however; the calming state of mind increased his concentration and precision with his strikes. He didn't really plan on using his blades that much--hopefully not hurting Venir in the process--but he would only if absolutely necessary. In his lap was his black katana, resting inside of its scabbard, and the voice of the dragon did not dare to speak up and interrupt Deniel's meditation. He figured he would be sitting like this for quite a while, half an hour at least, but it seemed Venir had proven him wrong when it came to the amount of time it took a woman to get ready. No more than five minutes into his meditation did he hear Venir almost shriek an alert to announce her presence. Not expecting her to be there that soon, and having gotten comfortable in his meditation, Deniel was almost expecting some kind of attack from someone he didn't know. His eyes darted open, and his hand went for his blade's hilt, but upon realizing it was just Venir, he creased his movement and instead held on to the scabbard.

"Nice to see that you--" Before he could finish his sentence, Venir interrupted him, stating with what he knew to be pretentious disappointment, that they couldn't continue their training. An amusing attempt to wiggle her way out, at least. Though if she didn't want to do it so bad, he was a tad bit surprised that she even showed up at all. Perhaps she's still a bit scared of me...but why? He narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then shook his head. "Sorry, Venir...but you're not going to get out of this that easily." A smirk followed up his comment, as well as a small bit of laughter. He had to admit, what she said was true and quite funny. He could have told her to go find one and then come back, that would have worked very well, but...he decided that there was an easy way to go about this, and that he would take it. Reaching his right hand over to his katana's hilt, he grabbed on to it for a moment, and then released his grip. In his hand was a fire of purple energy, one that he raised to the sky and gave a wave of his hand. Four blades formed from the excess energy of his wave, manifesting and shaping themselves almost instantly. They all dropped to the ground and lay dormant, stabbed inside of the arena's flooring.

Looking exactly like the blades that he had earlier, except for the colors, the groups they had was an enormous broadsword, a single katana, and then a set of twin slightly smaller katanas. "You've got three options...but I have an idea which one you might pick. The broadsword is too bulky and heavy for your type of size...though you might get your own that's smaller. The twin katanas can be deadly, but are extremely hard to use; people who don't have the skills of a supernatural like me usually go for a sword and a dagger so they don't interfere with each other. And finally, the katana...a very practical weapon. Slightly on the short side, but it gets the job done." Based on what he said, he made it quite obvious which one of them he recommended she choose, but the choice was still in her hands. "Once you take your pick, come at me. You can cut me once, twice....three times. I don't care. The more the better. And don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. I want to know how you handle one naturally so I can teach you from there." The three blades presented before her appeared transparent, almost as if they were made for ghosts. They were all a solid purple color with light of the surroundings going through, but in spite of that, if she held on to one of them, it would behave and act like an actual sword would; she could hold on to it, swing it, and it would behave realistically like a blade.

Her best efforts in squirming her way out of training ended up failing. Apparently, Deniel had thought this through, or he was incredibly lucky. That and Venir's own rotten luck probably had a part to play in there as well. A soft, almost inaudible groan escaped her as Deniel declared that she would not be escaping the training he had in store for her. "What are you gonna do produce some swords from you-" She cut herself off as Deniel did just that. A number of blades were produced, all of them finding their home in the earth of the arena. Unlady like curse words coursed through her head most of them directed at her ill luck. Curses aside, Venir listened as attentively as she could. If she was going to be trained to use a sword, with no apparent way out of it, she might as well try and make the most of it.

Listening to Deniel it was apparent just what sword he wanted her to pick. However, she may have decided to make the most of their training session but that didn't mean she was going to make it easy for him. Feigning intense concentration, Venir approached sword, testing each one out. First to test was the broadsword, it's weight wasn't the problem, Venir could lift it with ease but it was rather cumbersome. Venir preferred to maneuverability and that was something that the broadsword was lacking. Next was the twin katanas, they were lighter, and had the maneuverability that Venir desired. Though, it felt odd to have two separate swords in her hand at once. How was she to potentially attack a target that was out of the blades range? Finally, her palm came into contact with the last sword, plucking it from the earth with ease. Once more she went through her inspection, a particularly long process. First she tasted its weight in her hand, turning it this way and that to look at the blade carefully. Regardless of what sword she had picked up, it was blatant that Venir felt awkward, and looked awkward holding them. If there was an improper way to hold a blade it was certain that Venir was going to find it.

"Fine. I guess I'll settle with this one."

She huffed, the puff of air ruffling her blonde bangs. In her hand she gripped the single blade, its weight almost light in her palm, and the maneuverability was fair enough. "Attack you?" She raised a golden brow in question, was he serious? He wanted her to cut him? He wouldn't retaliate either? For a moment she was startled by the amount of trust he was showing her. Deniel was allowing her to cut him with nothing but the belief that she wouldn't stab or go for somewhere vital. "O-Okay..." She would state once she realized he was serious. She raised the blade with one hand, again looking rather awkward about it. Then with only the briefest moments of hesitation she rushed forward towards Deniel. First she slashed downwards, across his chest, then with a bit of fumbling she slashed again this time a horizontal. Her slashes were choppy, not particularly fluid, but somewhat quick if one ignored her constantly fumbling with the blade in her hand. Her other hand was dormant by her side, unsure of what she should do with it really. After a few more slashes, Venir huffed ceasing her assault. For a moment she looked down at the blade in her hand unsure of what to do with it, there was no scabbard for her to put it in, so instead she opted with just pushing it back down into the earth.

He stood cross-armed, awaiting her response. Predictably, but also luckily, she decided to take his advice and go with the ordinary katana blade. A good choice in his book, and one that seemed to fit. Broadswords were more for heavy types, and she was far too much of a novice to try and take on two blades at once. Though she seemed hesitant to attack him, he offered no alternative, and only nodded his head. "Come on!" He said to her, sounding a little bit harsh, but he was quite eager to see what she was capable of. And like that, she came at him. He made no moves or attempts to retaliate or fight back against her, but rather watched what she was capable of. And she would very quickly find out why exactly he wasn't going to budge an inch, or even draw his own blade. The katana she swung at him phased right through him like a spirit attempting to touch something that was of solid matter: him. With her blade unable to damage him, the point of the training would be to see how she handled it rather than how much damage she could pump out with it. The former would be for a later date, but now was the time for her to undergo the basics. His body did not move, and his eyes only remained on the blade itself, and the hand guiding it.

She seemed to be struggling with the handling factor alone, but her strikes were swift. Perhaps because by default she was a skilled mage who more or less knew how to use speed to her advantage with attacks. They carried very little transitions, though, and that was important, being able to go from one strike to the next in a fluid fashion, and have it be the most efficient. For her, though, she seemed to be doing things at random. Or whatever came to her mind first. His gaze then shifted across to her other hand, noticing that it wasn't really doing anything, and the entire right side of her body was doing most of the work as a matter of a fact. That was something they definitely needed to work on. Either she needed to learn that swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat went together quite well, or there was a need for something else in her other hand. Finally the last cut had finished, and her immediate thoughts and words were of self-doubt and criticism. It had to be expected. She knew she didn't really know what she was doing, and was forced into this entire thing. Though in spite of it, Deniel seemed to be fairly satisfied. Although a little bit annoyed that she was still keen on leaving the scene as soon as possible.

"What's the rush? We're already off to a fantastic start. Now, then..." He took a step closer to her, and reached out to the hand that previously held on to the blade, wrapping his around it. He clenched his fingers around hers tightly, and then released it. "It should be that tight. Make sure your grip never loosens for a second. This will prevent any of the fumbling you did earlier. And if that doesn't help, make sure to concentrate on your grip. If your blade shakes or moves in your hand, disarming you will be an easy task for an opponent. And for now, focus on keeping yourself still. You can let the blade carry you...but that's mostly for advanced users. And now..." He was getting a little ahead of himself. The energy and excitement for having his own apprentice was getting a bit to him, since he didn't know what advice to give next. He knew the issue was with her hand, but he didn't much know how to solve it. "Let me try and incorperate what I just said into a small exercise for you...Watch first."

He turned away from Venir, trusting she wouldn't just walk off or run away from the next part. His stance was having his feet planted firmly on the ground, with his body leaning more towards his right side. In his left hand he carried his sheathed blade, hand on the scabbard directly underneath the hilt. After letting her take in the stance, he brought his scabbard up with a swing that would go for an opponent's jaw, and then brought it straight back down where it was. Just as he finished doing so, his right hand went for the blade sheathed, and drew it into a cut that transitioned downward with a circular motion of his wrist before ending with a slice up. After completing it, the blade didn't go back to the scabbard, but instead he tossed his scabbard back at her. "Go for it. Keep the grip strong. Stand firm, not loosely. And use the scabbard."

Her initial worries of potentially hurting Deniel, a ridiculous worry in itself, was put to rest as the blade more or less phased right through him. Something that should have been expected considering the nature of the blades her produced. "Fantastic?" She raised a golden brow in question, giving him an incredulous look. She didn't need any sugar-coating to know that she was awkward with a blade. Once upon a time, she had in fact wielded a long sword but even then that was in her childish form, there was no skill between her and a blade. It had always been using her unexpected strength to her advantage at least when she was in her childish form. Now it had turned into less skill and more speed in using the blade. If it wasn't an ethereal blade she also would have relied on using her strength with the blade but skill? Things always felt clumsy in her hands, when she was a child the sword was practically the same size as her. As an adult, the blade was about half her body length, and still felt odd.

As his hand clasped about her own, putting some pressure on her fingers, Venir resisted the urge to wince. Deniel had a particularly tight grip, one that could be crushing if he had the desire to or at least that's what Venir believed. His grip upon her hand was released, and she did her best to mimic the pressure on the blade with just her own palm. "Okay..." The word was spoken slowly, unsure of herself after his explanation. His eagerness was apparent and would have been amusing if she was not the one his focus was placed upon. Keeping her grip firm upon the blade, Venir took a step back as if Deniel might need it for his demonstration. Her violet gaze fell upon him, taking in everything from stance to expression hoping that some secret to mastering a blade would reveal itself to her. Instead all she saw was a man standing there, body leaning slightly to the right and- "Woah!" Her eyes widened, not really expecting the quick succession of strikes from both scabbard and blade. "That was neat but how am I supposed to UMPH!" Her reflexes helped her just barely catch the scabbard thrown her way, her left hand grasping it in her fist as her other hand was occupied with the blade. "W-W-W-Wait!" She looked between Deniel and the scabbard, the onyx colored sheath like a mirage in her hand.

It wasn't exactly a spoken rule, it was more like an unspoken implied rule of the universe, don't touch Deniel's sword. Whether it be the blade or the scabbard Venir always had the vague impression that something horrible would happen if she so much as looked at the blade weird, let alone touch it. Perhaps it was her brief childhood that had idealized that blade, and she was merely the only person who felt that way about the weapon. Again her violet gaze drifted towards the scabbard clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles went white. There was some weight to it but not really enough to throw her off, if anything it balanced out the weight of the blade in her right hand giving her more equilibrium than before. Taking a moment to test out the scabbard Venir moved it this way and that, every now and then looking back to Deniel for some sort of approval or disapproval. It was almost as if she was half-expecting him to take it away from her. "H-Here goes nothing..." She mimicked Deniel's earlier stance, planting her feet firmly into the ground. She took in a big gulp of breath before her body spun into movement...

The scabbard moved upwards just as it had with Deniel, and it was brought back down in a similar motion. She tested this out a few more times, growing more and more adjusted with the weight of it compared to her own physical strength. Again she looked for some form of approval from Deniel, some tip to offer, still half expecting herself to get in trouble. Then after a few more attempts she incorporated a swing of the transparent blade in, albeit awkwardly. Her movements were still swift, less awkward but there was a certain choppiness to them as if she was pausing or holding back before each swing or strike.

She still seemed hesitant at it, but Deniel retained confidence in her abilities at this point. Venir wasn't a slow learner, not at all. She was just inexperienced. And the first time Deniel picked up a weapon wasn't a dazzling sight either, though he did become a master swordsman faster than any known being in existence. Perks of being a Nephalem. A fast learner. That didn't mean Little Venir's learning curve shouldn't be underestimated either. He watched each and every one of her strikes with close intent; he watched the scabbard itself move through the air, his gaze able to pierce far enough to detect the effects it had on the air surrounding her. One good thing he had to note about her was that her stance was spot-on. Well, there were two good things. She knew by default that strikes needed to be swift, but they lacked a very important component into them. One he would need to introduce to her. He just needed to think how.

"Keep going." He simply said, not telling her whether she was doing it right, or doing it wrong. Obviously she was doing it wrong--she was going to be for a long time--but he needed to find areas in which she was doing it right so that way she would be paranoid about less things. "Stance is solid. Strikes are swift. Good work." That's all he said, only a few moments after he said 'keep going,' and he just assumed she would continue on. His mind started to wander, and the blade in his hand started to feel heavy as a result. He trained children in the ways of the sword before, but it was only for a few hours, and they were young. They had a long way to go. He hoped to make Venir better than a novice by the time he was done with her. So how could he explain it...? Better yet, what was the appropriate word for it? He used one on the children before when he was with Raven. What was that single word he could--

"Concentrate!" The mind of Deniel and his blade were linked, so it was able to intrude in on Deniel's thoughts. And it knew the word Deniel was looking for, so the blade itself spoke out abruptly. Deniel couldn't remember if Venir knew that Nidhogg could talk, but... if she didn't, now she did. "You lack concentration, Venir."

"Concentration! That's right! That's what you need, Venir. Leave it to the sword to know how to use a sword... heh. Anyways, let me explain." Deniel grabbed on to the bottom portion of his jacket he wore over himself, and brought it up to his mouth. He bit off a very small scrap of it, and held it right in front of him, squeezed in between his index and middle finger. "If I were to toss this up and have you cut it, I know what would happen. Your strike will be fast, fast enough that you could hit it. But you'd miss your target completely because you would fumble... and why do you do that? You lack concentration. It's my word for what's the most important element in being a master swordsman."

He tossed the piece of cloth right up into the air, and took a swing at it once it came to his eye level. He missed, and it landed in his palm once he held it out. The strike, notably, was quite swift. Perhaps faster than a normal eye could see. "I can be fast..." He tossed it up into the air again, and this time, the swing was a much more powerful one. It wasn't quite as fast, but one could quite literally feel the force of the air being displaced from the sheer power of the strike, and would no doubt severe a limb clean off... at least that's what someone who was ignorant to the ways of the sword would think. Once more, the piece of cloth landed in his palm he held out. "I can be strong... and I can be a mixture of the two; but what will get me the strike it needs to hit my target and win my battle... is concentration." One more time it went into the air, and one more time he took a swing. It was not as fast as the one before, nor was it as strong, but the way Deniel carried it out was much different. Instead of cutting right away, he waited. And when he did, there was a certain flare in his eye, and a movement to his hand that seemed to be perfectly aligned and straight.

And this time, the bit of clothing he ripped off, that tiny bit, was split in half, and fell to the ground in two separate pieces. Already Deniel was ripping off another bit of his clothing, the piece a little bit larger for Venir, but still quite astoundingly small. His training involved no dummies. "Now you do it. We're not stopping until you cut this in half. Go!" Anticipating she would miss, his palm was already prepared to catch it when it fell down. And he would only toss it right back up for her to try again and again. As long as it took.

Perking up slightly at the praise Venir continued her strikes, feeling slightly less awkward. Only slightly though. She would have continued on till Deniel told her to stop, but another voice had cut in. One that she didn't recognize but her acute ears were able to pin point where it had come from. Immediately, her strikes had ceased, her gaze falling upon Deniel's blade. Had it really spoken? Deniel's next words only confirmed her suspicions... His sword could talk... The young woman seemed baffled for a moment but eventually her mind was able to come to terms with it. In a world full of mages and magic, there was certainly stranger things than a talking sword. "Concentration?" She looked between Deniel and the blade, confusion evident on her features.

Deniel proceeded to explain what he meant by concentration, going as far as to give her an example. Carefully, she watched the piece of cloth as he swiped at it once, twice, and then finally a third time. Each strike was difference, and in theory Venir understood what he was trying to get at. "But...I'm already concentrating as hard as I can...I think..." The blonde stood there more confused then ever, unsure of what to do, even more uncertain when Deniel expected her to slice another piece of cloth torn from his clothes. With a deep sigh Venir fixed her stance, raising the blade in one hand, while in the other she still clutched the scabbard. Poised to strike, Venir did not move until the cloth was in the air, with all the reflexes of a tiger Venir swiped at the cloth. Only it fluttered back into Deniel's palm, unscathed

This was going to take a while...~*~

Frustration

It was evident on her features, as each strike was growing less calculated. A deep scowl had set across her features, the temperature in the air going up a few degrees. Odd things tended to set Venir off into a rage, and strangely enough this was one of things. Wouldn't anyone else be mad after trying and failing at something for the last hour or so? As Venir missed again, she finally snapped. As the cloth was once more tossed into the air Venir let out an enraged shout. She swung the blade not bother to look to see if she actually cut the cloth in half or not. Instead after she swung she turned on her heel so that she could aim a strike with the scabbard at Deniel in a surprisingly fluid motion,

There was no doubt in his mind that Venir would fail the first few tries in this task, but he never really expected it to go as bad as it was. He didn't dare to say it out loud, but she wasn't making any progress whatsoever. In fact, after a while, her strikes got worse instead of better, and he could easily see the frustration growing on her face. A drop of sweat traveled down the side of his forehead as his mind quickly raced to think of what he should do or say, anything to keep her from blowing up. The temperature sure was increasing, and the last thing he would would be some kind of fight just because he tried teaching her. What his mind raced for were days long forgotten and long past... back in Bellum's Private Institution. He remembered his katana instructor. A criminal, yes, but a very good wielder of the blade at that, and it was there Deniel had grown fond of that kind of weapon. The man was from Midi, and though all of them were renown for being samurai warriors with katanas... this one was quite exceptional. Perhaps the techniques he had been trying to teach Venir were far too advanced, at least for her.

Though his trail of thought was cut off just as he felt a small sting of pain through being hit by something, and it was none other than the scabbard of his own blade. "Ow!" It didn't hurt all that much, but the surprise of it all was just enough to make Deniel say it. As of right now, he wasn't entirely sure where to go next. She was still struggling with almost everything he threw at him, and it only seemed to be fueling both her anger, an the temperature around him. Thus, he needed to take a step backwards, though not literally. Try something that both she and him could accomplish... take it slower. And then the memory hit him, of the first time he used a katana blade. "You're right..." he said quietly at first. And then he spoke up, "Okay. I've an idea... one I'll do with you. If you can't do this, then... you're free to go. And I won't bother you about it again. However, you need to promise me you'll get it your all. Now." Deniel closed his eyes in front of her, and took a very long, deep breath inside of his nose. "Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Erase any troubles, doubts, and frustrations." He exhaled the breath from his mouth, and then he took another one in. "Again." Once again he exhaled, and then once more inhaled and exhaled. "One more time."

Hopefully by this time Venir was calm, and Deniel opened his eyes once more. "You can toss the scabbard aside for now. You won't need it. I'm going to do with you the very first exercise my teacher did with me when I first picked up a katana. This will teach you how to handle the blade, how to maneuver it, precision, and above all... concentration." Deniel held out Nidhogg in front of him with one hand, and then grabbed on to it with a second hand. "Stand right there, and mirror my every move and stance." He placed his left foot in front of his right, in spite of the fact that he used his right foot. This was so Venir could do what he said, and mirror it with her right foot. Two hands on the katana provided both stability and strength. Slowly he raised the blade, enough for her to copy and mirror his motion. Then he curved in his left elbow to have the blade in his hands lean over towards his left, which would be her right. Slowly he made a cutting motion, one that would not do actual damage, but just so he could follow him and his blade. After the 'cut' had completed itself, with the blade he turned it around using his elbows and not rotating it with his wrists. He then performed a very slow horizontal cut, going from his right to left, which would be from her left to right.

Every time Deniel completed a cut, he maneuvered the blade so that the edge would be facing the direction of the actual cut; katanas had only one edge, so handling them would be a problem. It was done by keeping the grip in a single location on the hands, and only the elbows and arms should move. And whatever angle the blade was facing would be the direction it cuts. The goal was to have it be exact.

If she wasn't so angry Venir would have been surprised that she managed to get Deniel to actually say, "Ow." She didn't think that she had swung or hit him that hard but it did ease her agitation a bit. Nothing like hurting others to make yourself feel better! Unfortunately, despite her outburst, Deniel did not let her escape so easily. Venir grumbled, and growled boots tapping impatiently against the ground. "Fine.." She finally huffed, arms crossing over her chest. Doing as he instructed, though feeling stupid the entire time, Venir let her dark lashes fall against her flushed cheeks.

Inhale

Exhale

She repeated the process a few times, chest rising and falling evenly with every breath she took. Anger and agitation that had once boiled over turned to a small simmer in the back of her mind, slowly being forgotten for the time being. Amethyst eyes were revealed once more on another exhale, and at his bidding Venir tossed the scabbard aside as gently as she could. It was almost strange hearing Deniel talk about his mentor, Venir had always assumed that he was just a natural with the blade, that he just picked it up and was a master. It was hard to imagine him fumbling or struggling with learning, let alone getting taught by someone else how to use it. In a way it made her feel a bit better about learning, only a bit though.

His next task was easier than the others because it was simply following his movements. All she had to do was follow and copy. Rather than try to figure out on her own, and this was where Venir seemed to improve some. Only in the very beginning to did she struggle bit, as mirroring movements could be a little confusing. As the two continued Venir did improve, and no longer struggled with differentiating their lefts and rights. Now their movements were nearly synchronized and to any onlooker it had to be quite the sight.

She got the hang of it. Slowly but surely she made improvements in quite literally all of her areas, which he was proud of, but this was only the beginning. She still had a long way to go, but at least there was some progress made. "Very good," he said to her as he was bringing his blade across his body once more. At the very least she deserved to know that she was doing it right, and that he was proud of her for it. "Of course these aren't cuts, these are blade motions. Let's kick it up a notch, shall we? Watch first." Once Deniel had finished the slow 'cut' of the attack he was in the middle of, he turned the blade with his elbows and arms just as he did before, and delivered a clean horizontal cut across. It was swift, and powerful enough that Venir could certainly both hear and feel the air that it displaced. He turned the blade one more time, and let her take a closer look with him explaining. "I've taught you how to swing the same way the blade is facing with these slow motions. Now apply it with an actual cut. I will position the blade, you match it, and then we both cut." He swung his blade once more, this time it went above his head from down near his chest area. He rotated the blade so that it was facing directly down, and cut it in that exact same angle.

Without explaining it or further hesitation, Deniel positioned his blade once more. He angled it just right, waited for a moment for Venir to mirror it, and then brought it across his body in a swift cut. From where the blade had ended up, he angled it differently once more, waited for Venir to catch up, and then did it again. There was no way he could hope for her to mirror his moves at full speed, that is why he moved the blade, waited, and then cut, so she could keep up. Though the goal was for her to be able to see that the blade had to be exactly aligned with its cutting motion. Else its effectiveness would be completely dwindled.

Hopefully after a while Venir was getting the hang of it, and there was only one way to find out. He turned the blade horizontally after finishing their next strike, but made no motion to cut. "Alright Venir, let's see if you can do it!" From out of his pocket he picked out the small piece of fabric from his coat, and showed it to her so that she could know what was coming next. He helped her align the cut, now it was time to deliver it. Carefully he tossed it up in the air one more time, and watched it fall and drop in front of her, curious to see if at last she would be able to do it. Come on... please!